


who could ever leave me, darling? (who could ever stay?)

by borzbois



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Borderline Personality Disorder, F/F, I have a lot of feelings about villains who were abused, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Queer Themes, S3 spoilers, Self-Indulgent, Trauma, and catra's quote really triggered that, idk if this really counts as catradora buuuut i'm tagging it, no beta readers we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borzbois/pseuds/borzbois
Summary: "you did this to me, and you get to be the good guy?"





	who could ever leave me, darling? (who could ever stay?)

**Author's Note:**

> who's ready to process some trauma? no one? too bad, life doesn't wait for us to be ready, either.

Catra has always felt too much. 

Emotions are complicated, catastrophic things for her. When she is upset, the apocalypse is upon her, and there is nothing that will make her feel better except the blank numbness of death. When she is angry, there is nothing that can cool the fires that overtake her, nothing to soothe the burn in her throat except for screaming it out.

She knows that it's not normal, that the way she feels is too much. It's the short stick in life, but what else is fucking new?

Catra has always been broken bits of a person, glass shards forced together where they don't belong in an attempt to make something whole. She's forced some of the pieces in there herself, has drawn blood where she breaks off the edges to make them fit. The slightest pressure makes her splinter in every direction, leaves her with open, gaping wounds just to run a new jagged edge across it.

She doesn't blame other people for not getting close to her—she's a walking hazard, quite literally. She loves with a silver tongue and venom-laced claws, and she's accepted that the best she'll ever get in life is numbness.

But Adora could take it all and give it back, because she was a little broken, too. Adora could take her broken cracks and fill them in with gold and diamonds, and sometimes, some of that love filled in the empty spaces of Catra's heart, too.

When Adora was around, the sting lessened a little. When Adora was around, there was someone to sit with her through the angst until the burn wasn't so unbearable. When Adora was around, she would distract her long enough for her to come back into herself. When Adora was around, she would hold her and pretend like she didn't just stain her shirt with tears.

Adora was her _person_.

And then she _left_.

Suddenly, the hurt was that much worse. Suddenly, Catra became that much more broken.

Catra knows she's done wrong, but what the fuck else was she supposed to do? Her whole life, she has been stomped under the heel of someone bigger than her, someone meaner than her, someone _better_ than her, despite everything. They don't see how much energy she wastes trying to keep herself taped together, to keep all her _everything_ contained.

So she stops bothering to patch the cracks that fracture. She pretends she doesn't notice, but she just can't keep up with the façade of trying to pretend it doesn't hurt anymore.

She dives wholly into the hurt, lets it fuel her, until she's a gaping mass of hurt and torture. She doesn't realize how exposed she is until everyone starts being able to see past her threats and look deep into her. They see all the scars left on her, in her heart, watches the way they ripple through her body at the stupidest things.

But she refuses to let it make her vulnerable. No, _this_ is her strength now. All her agony, all her rage, all the abuse is even more reason for her to be _feared_. They stare right into the abyss of her past, and see that despite it all she is _still fucking here_, so what can they do to crush her? Nothing, and they know that, and so they bow to her.

_Everyone_ will bow to her.

Even Adora, one day. Adora, who is so perfect, so special, so _chosen_. Adora who is nothing but a spineless knight held together by magic armor, her perfect little She-Ra costume. Adora was nothing but a mindless follower before she found that damn sword, and she will be nothing without it when its gone.

When Catra sees Adora on the battlefield, she feels _everything_. Catra feels the sting of every harsh critique that Shadowweaver gave her. She feels every disapproving glare Hordak has ever lain on her. She feels every sad stare Adora has ever given her. Catra's body implodes under it all, bleeds out all the hurt and takes it back in ten fold. 

She feels the sting of tears in her eyes and turns it into venom.


End file.
